


Relaxation Methods

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-25
Updated: 2005-11-24
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:23:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Ron and Hermione are stressed.  They help relieve each other's tensions





	1. Stress Relief

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Ron paced nervously in front of the windows in the common room. He was stressed beyond all measure of good reason, and silently cursed his position as Quidditch captain. He heard footsteps coming down the steps leading to the girl’s dormitory and turned to find Hermione watching him through narrowed eyes.  
  
"Ron, what are you doing up?" she asked pointedly, looking at her watch. "It’s four thirty."  
  
"Can’t sleep, too wound up about the match later," he grumbled. What was he doing up? She of all people should know how stressed he got before a match.  
  
She seemed to be sizing him up, and he could almost see the wheels in her head turning.  
  
"What’s going on in that head of yours, Hermione?" he asked, a little unnerved by her gaze and what it was doing to the lower regions of his body.  
  
He felt her eyes raking across his body and watched her bite her lip as if trying to come to a decision. Her eyes fell on his trousers, that were becoming rapidly tighter by the minute.  
  
"I know a way to help you relax," she said softly and took a couple steps towards him. Something in her eyes suddenly made his heart race. She looked almost predatory.  
  
"You do?" he stammered, shifting a bit to relieve the rapidly growing discomfort of his pants.  
  
"Do you want me to show you?" she whispered as she closed the distance between them and leaned in to whisper against his ear.  
  
Ron’s whole body shook as desire slammed through him, and he moaned as she took his earlobe in her mouth. "Show me? Can’t you just tell me?"  
  
"Ron," she said, trailing kisses across his jaw until her lips hovered inches from his, "I can’t tell you, I have to show you."  
  
His eyes slid shut and his body trembled in need. "Okay, show me," he managed, before she claimed his lips and thrust her tongue between them. She pulled away and stared at him, and in her eyes he could see desire and something that looked a lot like love.  
  
Nothing in his eighteen years could have prepared him for what happened next. He watched in stunned disbelief as Hermione sunk to her knees in front of him and stroked him through his trousers.  
  
"Merlin help me!" he gasped when she undid the button and lowered the zipper. Ron wasn’t a fool, and he thought he knew what came next. He’d never seen anything more erotic in his life than when she pushed his trousers and boxers down his hips and licked her lips.  
  
He released a loud moan when she bent her head forward and slid her tongue along the underside of his erection. His head spun and he grasped her shoulders to regain his sense of balance.  
  
"Hermione, what are you doing?" he growled out, and thrust his hips forward when she took his tip in her mouth.  
  
"Helping you relax," she said firmly, and slid her mouth down his length.  
  
The sensation was overwhelming. Her mouth was so hot, and her name fell from his lips when she slid her mouth to base of his cock. His head fell back as her tongue swirled around him. She worked her way back up to his head before sucking his length in again. He watched in stunned amazement as her head bobbed up and down his length. Her hands slid around his arse, pulling him firmly into her mouth before sliding up and down the backs of his thighs.  
  
Sliding back up to the head of his cock, she pulled just the tip and sucked hard. White lights flashed behind Ron’s eyelids and he thrust forward again.  
  
"Hermione, don’t stop," he pleaded. "Take all of me again." He groaned out her name as she complied. She increased her rhythm along his shaft and slid one finger underneath to trace it over his balls.  
  
His hips moved in time with her head, and he was moaning continuously now. He was further stunned to hear a whimper come from her and he felt the vibrations of it along his length.  
  
She continued to suck him, swirling her tongue along his shaft, finding the movements that drove him mad.  
  
He could feel himself nearing completion and moaned out, "I’m going to come, and you better stop."  
  
It appeared she was no longer listening, and increased the speed of her mouth up and down his shaft. She looked up at him and their eyes met. He tightened his grip in her hair and guided her movements. He tried to silently communicate how he felt about her. She watched him as she slid up and down his length, increasing the pressure, and when she reached his tip she sucked hard, sending him flying.  
  
His body shook as his orgasm washed over him. She continued sucking him until he was completely spent.  
  
She pulled his boxers and trousers up his legs and stood in front of him. Fighting to find his voice, he settled for pulling her tight against his body.  
  
He lowered his head and claimed her lips in a soft kiss.  
  
When they finally pulled apart, she looked up with him and ran her fingers through his hair.  
  
"Did it work?" She smirked.  
  
"Bloody hell!" he exclaimed. "Yes."  
  
"Good." She grinned again, looking pleased with herself as she led him to the couch.  
  
"Now lay down for a bit. I’ll wake you in time for breakfast." She forced his head into her lap and stroked his hair.  
  
"You know how I feel about you, right Hermione?" He looked up at her and another smile graced her features.  
  
"Honestly, Ron," she smirked, "it’s not like I do this kind of thing for the whole team."  
  
"I love you, Hermione Granger," he whispered and closed his eyes  
  
"I love you too, Ron Weasley," she replied as she stroked his hair.  
  
His last thought before sleep overtook him was: NEWTS would be his turn.  



	2. Newts

Ron Weasley wandered the corridor of the seventh floor. Over his shoulder he was carrying his bag, and under his breath he was muttering, "Feed Hermione." He was making his second pass down the hallway when a door appeared in the wall; he seized the handle and stepped into the Room of Requirement, and his smile faded when he found Hermione sobbing over her charms notes.  
  
"Hermione," he said softly, sitting down beside her at the small table she had conjured up, "love, what is it?"  
  
"I can’t do Wingardium Leviosa," she wailed. "I’m going to fail my NEWTS all because of a first year spell!" Ron bit his lip to keep from laughing, and pulled her tightly against him.  
  
"You’re too brilliant to fail. Come on, you just need to eat something," he said, and began pulling items out of his bag.  
  
"You brought me dinner?" She looked up at him in astonishment.  
  
"You didn’t come to dinner," he said softly. "Can’t have the woman I love starving to death."  
  
They studied their notes in companionable silence while Hermione ate. She wasn’t really concentrating; her mind was the handsome redhead sitting beside and how much their relationship had changed since the morning of the Quidditch match earlier that spring. They still bickered and disagreed but it was more teasing than serious now. They often held hands under the table in the Great Hall, and Harry had caught them more than once in a compromising position. Everyday he showed how much loved her and treasured her. She loved him more than she ever thought possible. He was fiercely protective of those he loved, and would lay down his life if necessary to protect them. He was honorable and brave, yet underneath she still saw the boy she’d fallen in love with on a train almost eight years ago. He still blushed and shot her that lopsided smile when he was embarrassed and it endeared him to her even more. His kisses set her body on fire, and every touch of his hands sent shockwaves through her. When they made love, his eyes filled with wonder, as though every time was the first time, and that, accompanied by the wicked things he could do with his mouth and hands, never failed to send her over the edge.  
  
She forced her mind back to studying and picked up her wand. Using a light flick and swish, she said, "Wingardium Leviosa." Her heart dropped as the book she was trying to levitate remained stubbornly on the table.  
  
"Damn it!" she shouted, and ran her hands through her hair in frustration.  
  
"Hermione, why don’t you try and relax a bit?" he said, turning to look at her. "Go over your notes again."  
  
"Relax?" she said, throwing up her hands. "How exactly would you suggest I do that? In less than twelve hours, we have our NEWT in Charms, and I can’t perform the simplest of spells!" She flung herself back in her chair and picked up her notes again.  
  
Ron watched Hermione out of the corner of his eye. Her shoulders where bunched up, and she was biting a lip -- a sure sign she was completely stressed out. He privately thought she really had no worries; she was the most brilliant witch in Hogwarts' history. He watched the light from the torches play over her face and a wicked plan formed in his mind. His mind filled with images of the time she’d helped him to relax, the way she’d made him feel, the look on her face when she taken him into her mouth, and the way she had driven him to ecstasy. The memories caused him to harden and he quickly adjusted himself under the table. It was time for him to repay the favor and help her relax.  
  
Hermione was completely focused on her notes; she didn’t understand why she couldn’t perform a spell that had never failed her in the past. She was so focused that she didn’t notice the warm hand sliding up and down her thigh, and when she finally became aware, her breath caught in her throat. She risked a glance at Ron and trembled at the look in his eyes.  
  
"What are you doing?" she whispered fiercely as he began bunching up her skirt with his hands.  
  
"You seem tense," he whispered as he slid his hand up over the lace of her knickers to cup her mound.  
  
Hermione moaned softly and scooted lower in the chair. She let her legs fall open and was rewarded when his hand slid under the elastic and slid over her folds.  
  
"Do you like that, Hermione?"  
  
His voice sent shivers up and down her spine; she nodded and bit her lip to keep from crying out as his finger ran over her clit.  
  
He slid his fingers in circles over her, causing her to arch into his hand. She watched him slide out of his chair and he grinned up at her. His blue eyes flashed with mischief and desire as he bunched up her skirt up higher around her waist.  
  
Hermione lifted her hips as he drew her knickers down her legs. She trembled as his fingers trailed up her thighs, followed closely by his tongue, and fire raced through her veins.  
  
"Ron," she gasped out as he slid his finger through her folds, "please…" Her voice trailed off when she felt his warm breath against her center.  
  
"What do you want, Hermione?" he whispered as he teased her, letting his finger glide over her center, coming close but never quite touching her where she wanted him most.  
  
Hermione moaned and tried to arch her hips into his hand, but he was too quick for her. He held her hips down with one hand.  
  
Hermione let a frustrated moan; she knew he was going to torment her until she said what he wanted to hear.  
  
"Say it, Hermione. Tell me what you want," Ron growled as he gently licked the inside of her thigh, causing fire to race directly to her center.  
  
"Put your mouth on me!" She gave in and was immediately rewarded as he buried his head in her folds.  
  
Hermione’s head fell back against the wood chair, and she let out a strangled moan and he slid his tongue up her folds to her clit and teased it with the tip of his tongue. He lifted her legs over his shoulders and she groaned as he slid a finger inside her, thrusting it in and out in counter point to the stabbing motions of his tongue.  
  
She thought she was going mad; the whole world had melted away, leaving only him teasing her, driving her crazy with his mouth, his hands. She could feel the heat building inside her as he slid another finger inside her and continued to lave her with his tongue.  
  
"More, it’s not enough," she moaned just as he took her clit between his lips and tugged. It sent her over the cliff and she screamed out his name and thrust her hips up against his mouth. He continued to taste her until her legs fell limply from his shoulders. He moved his way up her body and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. She hadn’t noticed the tears that trickled down her cheeks and sighed as he brushed them away.  
  
"Feeling better, Hermione?" he said smugly.  
  
"Much," she whispered, before claiming his lips in a plundering kiss, which she broke off quickly and continued, "I want you, I need you."  
  
Ron suddenly found himself being propelled backwards until his knees hit a chair that hadn’t been there five minutes before.  
  
"Hermione…" His voice was muffled by her lips crashing down on his, and he felt his heart leap as she lowered herself to his lap. He raised his hands to her hair, enjoying the feeling of her curls between her fingers. Hermione’s hands had dropped to his lap, undoing his trousers to caress him, and finally freeing him from his boxers.  
  
Ron groaned as she stroked him, and his eyes flew open in shock and wonder when he felt her moist heat hovering above his erection.  
  
"Do you want me?" she whispered against his lips as she slid his erection along her folds. Ron threw his head back against the high back of the chair and moaned. He could feel her warmth and the blood rushed from his head.  
  
"You’re going to have to ask, Ron," she whispered in his ear and slid her tongue along the outer shell. He tried to thrust into her to no avail; she lifted and hovered above him.  
  
Ron thought he might go mad. His erection throbbed painfully, and she was drugging him with desire.  
  
"Please, Hermione," he pleaded, his voice husky with need, "please let me inside. I need to be inside you." His words trailed off into a hoarse cry as she lowered her self onto him. Her eyes met his, and he trembled at the force of the need he saw there. He watched, fascinated, as she lifted her hands past his shoulders and gripped the top of the chair. His hands fell, shaking, to her hips, and he moaned as she the chair as leverage to lift herself up then to plunge back down onto his length. Through heavy eyelids, he watched as she threw her head back in pleasure, moaning his name, and increased the tempo of her movements. His hips lifted to meet hers, matching her frantic rhythm, and he could feel himself approaching the edge. Spellbound, he watched one hand slide from the top of the chair to her center, where she stroked herself in time to the urgent movements of her hips.  
  
"You’re killing me, Hermione," he moaned between clenched teeth, before moving his hand from her hip to slide over hers, guiding her strokes across her clit.  
  
"I want to see you come again," he whispered. "Come for me, Hermione!"  
  
Ron’s words sent her over the edge; Hermione called out his name over and over. Her head fell back and her muscles tightened around him. With a final thrust, he called out her name and his release washed over him, leaving him gasping for air.  
  
She collapsed in his arms and kissed him gently as they desperately tried to catch their breath, their bodies still trembling with aftershocks.  
  
"Are you relaxed yet, Hermione?" he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.  
  
She pulled herself from him, moaning slightly at the loss, and straightened her skirt.  
  
"Accio wand," she cried, and grabbed it when it hovered in front of her. She stood and turned towards Ron, who was busy arranging his clothes. He looked up just in time to see a swish of Hermione's wand as she cried out, "Wingardium Leviosa."  
  
Ron felt himself rise from the floor. "I’d say very relaxed." She smiled smugly, grinning up at him.  
  
"I love you, Hermione Granger, but bloody hell, get me down!" Ron exclaimed.


End file.
